


New Souls

by dirthara_mama



Series: POE Drabbles [1]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Elves Being Cute, F/M, First Meetings, Friendship, I just needed to get out something cute, I wrote this in like an hour, the ship is far from sailing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 00:18:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15327576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirthara_mama/pseuds/dirthara_mama
Summary: Aloth makes an unlikely acquaintance in Gilded Vale and learns about her family, and that they have more in common than he originally thought.





	New Souls

Without much fanfare, Aloth watched as his unlikely savior holstered her gun, gave him a not unpleasant smile, and pushed open the door to the Black Hound. Her wolf strolled in before her, and she let the door fall closed. He simply stood there, surrounded by the bodies of the townspeople she had slain to save him.

During the ordeal, Iselmyr had been quiet. Why couldn’t she have been quiet before it came to blows? Now that it was over, she crept back to the fore of his mind.

_Tha lass is a'richt ta me, and she said ye can join her!_

“She’s seen members of the Leaden Key. I don’t have much of a choice.”

_Forget about the Key, lad. This micht be a wey out o' that poxy mess. Now git yer ass away from these dead ones ‘fore someone spies ye here._

Aloth looked at the bodies on the ground and noticed the stench of death was starting to rise from them. He sighed as he stepped over the elven woman and followed the other one into the tavern.

The dimly lit building was noisy, as if everyone in the small village were inside it at once, and it smelled of spilled ale and spoiled potatoes. Aloth looked around for his new companion, but she was small and it was difficult when he was trying to avoid eye-contact with everyone else. Finally he saw her at the bar, with two flagons in front of her, chatting away with the barkeep.

“Here, I got this for you. It’s awful,” she lowered her voice, “but after what just happened, we could both use a drink.” She looked over him, and raised a hand to his face, a bit too quickly for Aloth’s liking, because he instinctively flinched away. “Oh,” she paused, “I’m sorry… It’s just, you have some blood on your face.”

Aloth reached for his ale, trying to look relaxed. “Thank you, I’ll take care of it later. If anything, it’ll help me blend in with this lot.”

_Drink the ale, lad._

“What was that?” She faced him once more, and he froze in the wake of her golden eyes.

“Nothing! I was just saying ‘thank you,’ for the ale.” He raised the flagon to his lips and let the bitter liquid wash over his tongue. It was disgusting, but bracing all the same. Just as she had suggested, it was somehow calming. “You said your name was…?”

“Arinnia.” She smiled. It was not a Dyrwoodan smile. Hers was not a Dyrwoodan face. She had unusual features for the area: full lips, feline-like golden eyes, a delicate chin, freckles covering her dark cheeks and round nose, and dark curls framing her face and tied in thick braids down either side of her head. There was something Vailian about her, besides her name, but she didn’t have the accent. “Arinnia Iorwerth. And this fluffy girl is Ophelia.” She reached down to pat the wolf between them.

The family name was familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

_Them’s the ones that left._

He remembered now. The Iorwerths were Aedyran nobility. Lords and Ladies, well above his family’s station. A Folk lord had wanted to enter a haemneg with Lady Iorwerth, but the family refused. They had fought, and fought hard. Finally, they simply picked up one day and were gone. The entire estate was cleared of people and there was no trace left to follow; the fortune remained behind. That must have been almost 300 years ago, but many elves knew the story, especially when sharing an opposing view of ceremonial marriages like the one his mother was in.

But now, here in the backwater of the Dyrwood, a daughter of the Iorwerths was sitting here in front of him. He must have looked astonished, because she laughed and stared down into her drink.

“I didn’t expect anyone to be familiar with me. Unsettling, really.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just surprised to meet another Aedyran-”

“Not Aedyran. Never been to Aedyr, will probably never go there. I’m from the Living Lands.” At her tone, Ophelia barked, quieting the entire room for a moment.

He frowned. He hadn’t meant to offend her, only to commiserate their shared heritage while he was so far from home. “I doubt I’ll return either. How did your family end up so far north?”

She took a deep drink from her glass and wiped her mouth with her gloved wrist. Well-bred features or not, she was not exactly cultured. “You know the story, judging by your reaction to my name. But my great grandfather choose the Living Lands because what snobby Aedyran would go chasing them there?”

_Aye, no arguin’ there._

Aloth nodded, hoping Iselmyr’s words were only in his head.

“So we have a small colony in one of the more habitable valleys on the island. My father, Elyss, is the grandson of Melrand and Ainsle Iorwerth. Ainsle is the elf that refused the haemneg. I didn’t get to meet her, even though she lived to be 282, but I heard she was stubborn and brave. And paintings of her are always beautiful. I’m told I have her eyes.” As if on purpose, Arinnia flashed a quick glance at him, but then looked away. Embarrassment, insecurity, Aloth couldn’t tell which. “Anyway, my mother and her family are Vailian, so all my siblings and I have Vailian names. And it all sounds fine at home, but since I’ve been in the south, everyone seems confused. What about you? What’s your family like?”

“Oh, not much to tell there.” Aloth felt his face grow hot. “Father and mother in service to Lords and Thayns, and I struggled to find patronage, so I came out here. Boring stuff.”

Arinnia laughed, looking him in the eye in earnest. “I suppose that will suffice-- for now. Hey, I’m going to get a room. Do you mind sharing?”

“Wh-what?” Aloth choked on his latest sip of ale. She was pretty, to be sure, but he had given her no cause to proposition him.

_How come? She's feisty and ye could stand ta dip yer wick in a candle like that._

She laughed again, “You’re a nervous one, aren’t you? I meant, I only have the coin for one room, but we can get two beds. I don’t want to leave you out here to get yourself into more trouble.”

He stretched his lips into a practiced smile. “Thank you, that’s kind of you.”

They finished their ales and headed up stairs after Arinnia had paid Pasca the fee. She had also offered to find the tavern’s former cook, which Aloth felt was unnecessary, but clearly she was in the business of helping.

They got into the room and Arinnia immediately began taking off her leather armor. Aloth looked at the wall on his side of the room, trying to neatly place his things on the bedside table, fearing exactly how undressed this elf from the wilderness was going to get. After a few minutes, he heard her settle onto her bed.

He chanced a look in her direction. She was sitting cross legged in a large rough-spun cotton tunic, hands working to take out her braids, a map laid in front of her and Ophelia laying at the foot of the bed. He was relieved that he had underestimated her modesty.

She caught his gaze. “I’m trying to see where the cook might be, and also see how far away Defiance Bay is, for your cause. And mine. I’ve… been having trouble sleeping. And seeing strange things.” As her braid was undone, a mass of heavy curls hung from the side of her head farthest from him. She moved to work on the other side.

“What do you mean?” Aloth stood over the map. He pointed at a spot by the sea. “And Defiance Bay is here.”

She sighed, “Ugh, I think I’ve got it knotted. Do you think you can help me?” She pointed to the braid. “I know you’ve got a thing with personal space, but I can’t get it. By the way, you’ve still got blood on your face.”

“I… I suppose.” Aloth reached for her hair, feeling for the knot. He couldn’t remember touching another person without feeling the alarm that came with fleeing danger or witnessing an experiment gone wrong. And now his fingers were deep in the soft, dense curls of this elven woman. He was glad she was looking away so he could blush in peace. “What did you mean by strange dreams?”

“They’re… they’re not mine. I feel like I’m there. I know things and I _feel_ things. But it’s not _me_.” She looked up at him, her expression worried. “Have you heard of anything like that? I don’t want it to be what I think it is.”

_She’s like us, laddie. Parts o’ her are awake._

Aloth nodded, thought to Iselmyr ‘I see. But it doesn’t appear to be as… far gone as our predicament.’

_Aye, but she ain’t gonna hate us once she keens what’s goin’ on in her own head._

“It sounds like you’re Awakened.” Aloth didn’t mean for it to sound so cold. He fumbled for anything else to say. “But, maybe there’s someone in Defiance Bay that can help. Or we can ask around town tomorrow.”

Another heavy sigh, she raised a hand and wiped at her eyes the same way she had wiped at her mouth earlier. When she spoke, the words shook with fear. “I should have stayed home. My grandfather was right, I wasn’t ready. Now I have no family, and I’m a gods-damned freak. It had to be the biawac, those guys in the robes! I was fine until then.”

Aloth finished untying her braid, then placed an unsure hand on her shoulder. “You’re not a freak. We’ll find who did this, and maybe there’s a way to suppress it.”

“You’re not afraid of me?” Without looking back at him, she reached for his hand on her shoulder, grazing her fingers over the back of his hand.

“Not of your soul.” Aloth chuckled. “I’m more afraid of your gun, considering what you did to the three outside.”

She turned to meet his eyes, hers were now rimmed in red, her hand still on his. “I’m not going to hurt you. I look out for my friends.”

Aloth moved his hand and stepped away. Friends. He hadn’t had a friend since he was a child. Not a real one. And now that someone was offering, it was while he was living a life of secrets and falsehoods. She had already been so open with him.

_Ye can’t be alone forever, lad. Tha little lass is the best company ye’ve seen in years._

“I like the sound of that: friends.” He sat on the edge of his bed and let himself smile, for real this time.

Arinnia reflected it, even though hers was tinged with sadness. “Then we’ll stick together, however long it takes for us to find answers. But Aloth?”

“Yes?” He was reaching for his grimoire to do a bit of studying for the evening.

She crossed the room to the water basin and dipped a cloth in water, then tossed it at him. It landed with a soft, wet thud inches from him on the bed. “Please, for the love of Berath, wash the blood off your face.”


End file.
